


Feline

by MissDrarryDawn



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drarry, M/M, bet, catdraco, soulmate, spell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 12:53:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20471348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissDrarryDawn/pseuds/MissDrarryDawn
Summary: A victim of a lost bet, Draco is cursed with Feles, a spell that has him sprout cat ears and gain a few other cat like abilities. However, Feles also awakens a 'prey drive' in Draco, meaning it has him actively "hunting" for his soulmate. One tell of who it was was the fact they were the only person able to touch Draco while he was under the spell, lest they both get burnt. And of course it should turn out to be Harry Potter. At first, Draco is more than happy to dismiss the entire fiasco, but a soulmate's bond ran deeper than either of them had initially realized, thus leaving them in quite a peculiar situation...//Completed//Word count: 10.7k





	Feline

Draco Malfoy is many things. A bastard, insufferable, incredibly proud and apparently..a cat as well. 

Harry stared with his mouth hanging open as the blonde walked into the Great Hall with two fluffy gray cat ears sitting atop his blonde head. He was glowering, as usual, this particular morning his glower noticeably nastier however, and it was clear why. After being flipped the bird, Harry closed his mouth and merely tilted his head to keep looking at his blonde enemy. Cat ears. Of all the things Harry expected Malfoy to sprout, cat ears were not on that list. Devil horns maybe, but certainly not cat ears. Which is why he found it so curious that that's exactly what Malfoy was wearing on his head right now, as he ignored the snickers from other students. Harry watched the ears twitch and flatten against his head, only to perk up once more. He didn't seem to have any control over them. Sure enough, the rest of Gryffindor was also staring, and although Harry knew it was rude, he couldn't quite bring himself to look away either. He rolled his eyes, it wasn't like this was the first time he was staring at the guy. In fact, this was probably the enth time he found himself staring at Malfoy, at any given part of the day. Back to Malfoy's ears. Merlin, that sounded weird.

"Malfoy has cat ears. You're all seeing what I'm seeing right?" Harry chortled, and looked around at his friends who all snickered, nodding.

"How in the bloody hell did he just grow cat ears overnight?" Ron had that 'I have absolutely no clue' look on his face. Harry shrugged, resting his head in his hand as he kept staring. 

"There is a spell that does that, actually." Hermione piped in, the ever deep well of knowledge that she was. 

"Really? What is it?" Harry mused, his eyes still not leaving Malfoy, who was doing his best to ignore Harry's open oogling. 

"_Feles._ It has the victim grow cat ears and display feline behavior like purring, greater agility, improved climbing skills, an increased feeling of sleepiness and...a prey drive." Hermione prattled on, never one to pass up an opportunity to share wisdom. 

"A prey drive? Don't tell me Malfoy will start hunting rats around Hogwarts." Ron snorted, imagining it. Hermione shook her head with a gentle smile:

"No. The prey drive is there for his soulmate."

"That sounds extremely counter-intuitive." Harry glanced away from Malfoy's predicament for a second, to furrow his brows at his frizzy haired friend. Killing your soulmate was a bit odd, even for wizards.

"Oh Harry.." She muttered with a sigh. "It's not literal. The point is for him to "hunt" his soulmate, "catch" them, and stay with them. Only then the ears disappear." She elaborated, doing air quotes when necessary. 

"Ohh, that makes sense. Though, I can't imagine how Malfoy would make anyone fall in love with him." Ron jeered, turning his attention back to his chicken wings. Harry laughed, and looked at Malfoy once more. His ears were standing straight up, looking fuzzy and soft as ever and Harry snorted again. Draco Malfoy with cat ears could quite possibly be the highlight of his day. He wondered how many cat related puns he could get away with before Malfoy clocked him in the face.

"Don't go touching him." Suddenly Hermione spoke again. "Unless you're his soulmate, touching him will burn the both of you." 

Harry absentmindedly nodded, his mind conjuring every single cat pun he knew of. After breakfast ended, everyone was clearing out of the Great Hall, and to Malfoy's dismay, Harry caught up to him. With a shit-eating grin, Harry cleared his throat:

"That's quite a un_fur_tunate situation you've got there, isn't it Malfoy?"

He spun around with a glare:

"Piss off Potter." 

Harry cackled, oh this would be really fun. He silently followed after Malfoy:

"Don't get _hiss_terical on me now Malfoy." 

"I'm serious Potter, piss off." Malfoy barked over his shoulder, his ears twitching. 

"_Fur_get about it." Harry was pushing his luck, he knew, but goddammit this was amusing.

"Potter. I swear to Merlin, another word out of you and I will knock your teeth out." The blonde in front of him still didn't turn to face him, only rasped threats over his shoulder.

"Such a_paw_ling threats Malfoy." Harry feigned shock, and Malfoy stopped and turned on his heal so rapidly, Harry nearly walked right into him. The look in his eyes spelled _murder_ but Harry couldn't keep his grin off his face. 

"Why don't you run along back to your cronies and leave me the fuck alone?" He hissed and Harry shrugged:

"Because this opportunity is too _purr_fect to pass up."

Malfoy paled from fury and gripped Harry's collar, yanking him upwards:

"I'll make good on my threats Potter. Get out of my sight." He snarled, shoving Harry backwards and disappearing between students. Harry chuckled and righted his collar, heading to class. Malfoy really hasn't learned anything about Harry in all the years they've been at each other's throats if he thought Harry would just leave him be. 

_~_

Potter had that same disgusting self-satisfied smirk on his face ever since he'd tormented Draco with god awful cat puns after breakfast. As if waking up with cat ears wasn't bad enough, now Draco had to endure Potter and his endless barrage of stupidity. The blonde scribbled furiously in class, nearly breaking his quill while he was pointedly trying to ignore Potter and his infuriating stare. The bastard was up to something, that much was obvious, and Draco loathed to find out what it was. He wouldn't have to wait long to find out though, because when lunch came, Draco was enraged to find that all the food he touched turned into fucking _cat food_. He glared absolute daggers at Potter, who had the audacity to look innocent. As soon as he found which blithering idiot thought it was funny to curse him with those wretched ears, he'd make them regret their existence. Dispelling whatever charm Potter put on all the food was a bit of a chore, seeing as he didn't know which one he used. Eventually, though, Draco was successful and had a few bites to eat before lunch was over. He stood, seething, glaring at the stupid messy haired cuck as he exited the Great Hall. _Bloody hell, no one got under his skin as much as Potter. _

Draco patiently waited for Potter to exit the Hall, and cast a charming tripping jinx on his feet, causing the boy to face plant the floor.

"Thought your stunt was funny did you? I assure you, it was _not_." The blonde snapped as Potter scrambled to stand up, only to fall again. He grabbed for his broken glasses and placed them on his nose, grinning as he managed to sit up.

"Meowlfoy, do behave yourself." He disenchanted the tripping jinx from his feet and stood, walking away without another word, that fucking grin still on his face.

Draco couldn't believe the bastard turned his name into a pun. How _dare _he be _clever_ for once? Draco felt the ears tug on his scalp as they twitched again, him not quite figuring out how the fuck to control them just yet. He shook his head and scowled, heading into his next class, only to find catnip on his seat. Potter looked disinterested, but Draco just _knew_ it was him. He grabbed the nasty little plant and stopped for a moment, a shiver going down his spine. He suddenly felt a bit..dizzy. A fuzzy tickle started at the base of his spine, and Draco realized with a start he was rubbing the plant between his fingers without even realizing it. Flushing, he quickly threw it at Potter, and sat down, hoping no one had seen that weird display. He didn't turn to look whether he hit his target, just focused on shaking out the warmth from his body and listening to the lesson. 

~

Harry was observing Malfoy after he noticed the catnip Harry had so thoughtfully left on his seat when he came in. He seemed to stand there for several moments, gripping the catnip before throwing it in Harry's general direction and ignoring him for the rest of class, the ears flattened against his head. Harry couldn't help but chuckle for the remainder of the lesson, drafting his next prank. He hadn't felt this exhilarated in ages. Man he loved messing with Malfoy. Usually, it would be Malfoy throwing jabs, but for once, _for once_, Harry had a chance, and he would rather eat Bubotour puss than pass it up. 

Being the crazy bastard he was, Harry spent the rest of his classes dutifully charming badges under the desk, avoiding detection from the teachers. He hadn't yet forgotten the _Potter stinks _badges, and would get his own line of badges out, to repay Malfoy in kind. His were enchanted to say a very simple statement:

_'BREAKING NEWS: Draco Meowlfoy isn't a ferret, he's a cat!'_

Tomorrow at breakfast, the show would commence.

~

Suspiciously enough, Potter hadn't had a single word or pun to hurl at Draco the rest of that day. In fact, through all of the other classes, he seemed to be fumbling with something under the desk, and Draco could _not_ for the life of him, figure out what. Not for lack of trying on Draco's part, but for Potter's disgustingly good knowledge of Disillusionment charms that concealed whatever he did _too_ well. He had let himself relax for the rest of that day, but coming down to breakfast that morning, Draco immediately noticed 2 things. Potter's cold smirk and the overeager looks of the other Gryffindors. _Merlin help me._ Was the only thought he had time to conjure, before Potter was standing up on the Gryffindor table, casting a Sonorus on his voice.

"MAY I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION PLEASE?" His voice boomed across the Great Hall, his eyes never leaving Draco's. Effectively, every student turned to look at him curiously. He smiled and moved his wand arm up, having _hundreds_ of small red badges float into the air behind him. They flew to every student's front robes and clicked into place, even Draco's. 

"CONSIDER THIS A SMALL GIFT FOR ALL OF YOU FROM ME!" Rang out again, and then, promptly, Potter was sitting down, proudly sporting the badge.

Draco immediately tugged the badge off his robes, looking at it and feeling utterly mortified. He glared at the foul thing, when he felt Pansy lean closer to him, careful not to touch him:

"Those Potter stinks badges don't seem like such a good idea now, do they?" 

"Piss off. I swear to Merlin's bollocks, I'll make him regret this." Draco hissed, and Pansy only chuckled:

"I don't doubt that dear." She assured, not taking her badge off. In fact, no one took their badge off, not even Crabbe and Goyle, no matter how much Draco snapped at them to do so. He incinerated his the moment he could, the blasted cat ears pushing against his scalp. He tugged on them, startled at how sensitive to pain they were, and immediately let go. 

~

Harry had a blast of a day after he handed out the badges, that is, he _was _having a blast of a day, until Malfoy grabbed him and slammed him into a wall, his head bouncing into it painfully.

"You _bastard!" _Malfoy hissed into his face, entire face swimming with pure rage. Harry gave him his best 'you are beneath me' smile, though compared to Malfoy's, Harry was an amateur. "Get rid of those badges this _instant!"_ He demanded.

"No." Harry chirped cheerfully, wincing when Malfoy pushed him harder into the rough wall. "Payback's a bitch Meowlfoy." He added in a nonchalant tone, the force behind his words coming through none the less.

"Stop-Stop calling me that!" The blonde hissed again. He felt so fucking _angry_ and he didn't know what to do with it all, how to let it _out_.

"Give me one good reason not to." Harry challenged, eyes straying to Draco's cat ears. Draco bit his lip and slammed Harry into the wall again, the raven crying out as his back came into contact with the hard surface roughly.

"Just fucking stop Potter." Draco spoke, cursing himself for not having anything better to say.

"Still waiting for a reason why." Harry's challenging eyes didn't let up, as his head spun from the throbbing pain.

"I don't owe you any explanations." Draco spat, eyes flaring. The fucking anger was consuming him. Just _who_ did Potter think he was? Just because he was the fucking Golden Boy, didn't mean that he had the right to humiliate others!

"Okay then, Meowlfoy." The pinned raven shrugged, though his shoulder stung. Something was nagging away at him at the back of his head, something Hermione had said yesterday morning. About Malfoy...

A hard punch to his nose blew all thought away, and Harry felt his nose crack under Malfoy's fist. He winced and cried out, feeling blood trickle onto his upper lip.

"I'll break something else next unless you fucking stop Potter." Malfoy threatened and Harry's vision swam. He used what little strength he had left to grasp Malfoy and flip them around, so that Harry was pinning the blonde to the wall. 

"Wanna say that again?" Harry got into his face, his viridian eyes dark and menacing.

"You _brute_!" Malfoy hissed, struggling under Harry, to no avail.

"You say that _after_ you break my bloody nose? Ha-ha!" Harry spluttered out a cynical laugh, his nose burning as he tasted his own blood on his tongue.

"Get _off of me!" _Draco struggled, trying to push Harry away, but Harry was stronger and managed to hold him down. And then it hit Harry. His eyes widened in a flash, all of his anger sizzling away, instead replaced with confusion.

"I'm not burnt. Neither are you." He muttered, and Malfoy glared at him:

"_Obviously_ not Potter--" But then it seemed to hit him too. His face suddenly looked very pallid. Harry released him at once, taking several large steps away, his hands suddenly trembling. _No, it couldn't be._

"You-" Harry tried to speak, but Malfoy was running away before another word could leave Harry's blood-stained lips.

_Don't go touching him. Unless you're his soulmate, touching him will burn the both of you._

But Harry wasn't burnt.

~

"Absolutely fucking _not_ Pansy!" Draco beseeched, glaring at his friend. She kept her face carefully blank:

"You know how the spell works Draco." She shrugged and grasped his hand for a moment, a sharp burn making them both yelp and snatch away.

"I _know_ how the spell works, but it wasn't cast correctly on me, _obviously_." 

Pansy sighed. I cast it on you, I would know. In all honesty, it was for a bet she lost with Blaise. She planned to take it off of Draco after a week. 

"I don't know Draco. I don't know why Potter touching you didn't burn you or him." She shook her head, lying through her teeth, although even if she'd been honest Draco wouldn't have believed her. He was too caught up with himself to listen.

"Potter is absolutely _not_ my soulmate or whatever the fuck it is." He screeched and dropped onto the couch next to her, leaving a considerable amount of distance between the two.

"Alright, love." The black haired girl conceeded, feeling guilty somewhere in the back of her mind.

~

"Hermione it can't be _me_!" Harry spluttered into his friend's shoulder as she pat his back.

"I'm not saying anything Harry. Maybe it wasn't cast correctly?" She offered, gnawing on her lip.

"That has to be it.." Harry nodded, lifting his head away. He'd cast a quick Episky on his nose after Malfoy ran away, before running back to the common room to freak out on poor Hermione himself. "Just an incorrectly cast spell. That's all." Harry nodded to himself, murmuring it over and over.

Hermione only nodded, silent. It was one of the easiest spells, but she wasn't about to tell him that. Even the best of wizards and witches could mess up relatively easy spells, and she'd hope that was the case here. Because if not..well, things were going to get a lot worse for both Harry and Malfoy. The progression of _Feles _was rapid, after the 'prey drive' kicks in, which unnerved her. If the spell was correctly cast, and Harry _was_ Malfoy's soulmate, then Hermione could only hope the git didn't lose control and attack Harry to claim him. 

"Although, Harry, you should keep your mind open to all possibilities." She chided softly, and his eyes grew fearful once more. 

"What?" He muttered.

"If..If you _are_ his soulmate, you should have a plan.." Hermione forced out, wishing she wasn't the bearer of bad news.

"That's impossible Mione!" Harry protested, his voice unconvinced.

"Just in case Harry. It never hurts to be careful." She asserted and Harry just slouched and nodded.

"If I am, what then?" He finally asked, rubbing away the beginnings of a headache from his temples.

"You'll need to stay on your guard at all times. He won't quite have a feel for himself around you, to put it mildly." 

Harry's head slumped right back on her shoulder, and she automatically began patting his back again. 

"Why is it always me?" He muttered exasperated.

~

The next day, Harry avoided Malfoy like the plague, which was a sentiment the other seemed to be returning. However, Harry noticed Malfoy was glaring at him more often, but he just ignored it. He was determined not to give anything that would egg him on. He'd vanished all of the badges, leaving more than a few people confused and coming to him with complaints, only for him to give them the bright excuse they were a 'limited-edition one day only courtesy'. Through classes, Harry noticed that Malfoy was gripping at his hair, and ears a lot more than the past two days, and that he was wholly twitching more. He noticed that Malfoy flinched and yelped whenever someone touched him, indicating he got burnt, and it only served to worry Harry more about the reason he could touch him no consequence. 

Not one person Malfoy had come in contact with, willingly or unwillingly had come out of it not burnt, and Harry's head was really ticking. Now, they were sitting in their last class, and Harry could feel Malfoy's nerves wafting off of him, making Harry nervous too. _Prick._ Harry's fingers were itching to either punch him or pet him, Harry wasn't sure which. He was disturbed by both notions, especially the latter one, but he kept his hands firmly pressed into his lap, avoiding looking at the disheveled blonde head as much as he could. Until..

"Mr.Malfoy, Mr.Potter, you will be working on this assignment together." McGonagall smiled, her old voice soft when she saw the both of them visibly flinch. "The task is to transfigure your partner's arm into a wing, through physical touch only. I admit, the assignment is strange, but this will be done in stages, until you're able to transfigure your partner into a bird completely. We start slow however. You will need to maintain physical contact while you work to transfigure their arm into a wing. The effects do not last long, only about a minute, so do not be worried. This is due next week. Class dismissed." 

Harry stood up in a daze and swallowed as Malfoy approached him, sneering.

"Well Potter, are you just going to stand there like a mindless buffoon or will you tell me where to meet you to get this over with?" He snapped and Harry shook his head at himself:

"The RoR, after dinner. Good with you?" He murmured, not really wanting to look at Malfoy.

"Just peachy Potter." The blonde scoffed and pushed past him, their shoulders brushing. No burn. Harry cursed under his breath and grabbed his things, heading to his next class, where he saw Hermione was already sitting. He took a seat next to her, and she immediately unloaded on him:

"So much for avoiding him. I'm sorry Harry." 

"It's fine." It wasn't really, but Harry didn't entertain such thoughts. 

~

Dinner passed by in a blur, far too quickly if you asked Draco, and when it was over, he desperately wished he could just run up to his dorm and hide, but he had to go face Potter. His skin had been itching all day, his ears pulling against his scalp, he had been nursing a headache since he woke up, and it all gave him a moment of reprieve when he'd had that brief exchange with Potter. Draco shook his head at himself, and stomped to the Room Of Requirements, finding a door already there. He sighed and entered, seeing a very interesting room greet him. It was tall, with a big chandelier and a few comfy looking couches. Potter had _some_ taste, Draco admitted with reluctance. His entrance roused the raven idiot, who was fumbling with his wand up until he noticed Draco had showed up. He looked almost surprised.

"Potter." Draco acknowledged, a sudden chill overtaking him. 

"Meowlfoy." Potter smiled, and Draco rolled his eyes, though he could have snapped the bastard's neck. In a few strides, Draco had sunk into the couch opposite Potter.

"So. What's the task again?" The blonde tilted his head, his tone impatient, snappy.

"I need to transfigure your arm into a wing, but through physical contact. McGonagall said we'd work part by part until we can transfigure our partner into a bird completely. Honestly, weren't you listening?" Potter rolled his eyes with a sigh.

Draco looked away. Truth be told, he wasn't listening in any of his lessons today. The stupid itch in his skin wasn't letting him. With a note of panic, Draco noticed the itch had disappeared.

"Why a bird?" He scoffed instead, distracting the conversation from the unanswered question.

"Would you rather I transfigure you into a ferret?" Harry arched an eyebrow and Draco glowered.

"Let's just get on with it." He drawled, still not moving from where he sat. 

"Give me your arm Malfoy. That's kind of how we need to do this." Harry dropped the stupid nickname, to Draco's delight. The blonde curled his lip derisively however, and rolled his sleeve up, outstretching his forearm to Potter. 

With a surprising gentleness, Potter grasped Malfoy's arm and wrapped his fingers around it. Something rumbled in Draco's chest, but he clamped his mouth shut. For a few seconds, all Harry did was hold his arm, staring at the milky pale skin. He didn't know what _exactly _he was supposed to do, but he assumed it was imagine Malfoy's arm transfiguring into a wing. He drew small circles in the white skin, concentrating on an image of Malfoy with a long, soft wing attached to his shoulder, his eyes shut. A low, quiet sound snapped Harry out of it.

It was a purr.

Malfoy fucking purred.

Harry chanced a glance at him, he was flushed and looking away, the hand Harry was holding clenched into a fist. He chose not to comment anything about it.

"Relax Malfoy. We won't be able to do this otherwise." Harry coaxed instead, his thumb never stopping the gentle rub of small circles in Malfoy's arm. Surprised at the lack of complaining, Malfoy relaxed his fist, staring at the ground still. Harry just closed his eyes and focused his magic into Malfoy's arm, into changing it. He could see it much clearly now, he felt his magic pour into the white skin, and then he heard Malfoy gasp. He opened his eyes and pulled back, dropping his arm.

"Did I hurt you?" Harry asked instinctively, for a moment forgetting it was Malfoy he was talking to. 

"No. I'm fine, it..it surprised me is all. Your magic.." A shiver went through him as he pulled his sleeve down. 

"What did it feel like?" Harry hesitated, but then asked anyways. 

"It was very cold. Felt like my skin was stretching." Malfoy murmured, and collected himself. His ears were twitching.

"Who did it to you?" Harry jerked his chin at the cat ears. The scowl on the blonde's face deepened:

"I don't know Potter. When I find them, they'll regret it." 

Neither said anything about what happened yesterday, though they both knew it needed to be talked about. Harry almost asked, but he bit his tongue before the question could tumble out. No need to start another petty argument. They sat in silence for a moment longer, Malfoy looking as if he was waging a war with himself, before he scoffed:

"Do you want to try again?" 

Harry arched an eyebrow, but nodded. He truly didn't expect Malfoy to want another go, at least not today. He leaned forwards once more, and held his hands out, Malfoy placing his arm into them, his forearm facing Harry. Harry gripped the inside of his wrist this time, rubbing minute patterns into the skin there, trying it differently. He closed his eyes and began focusing again. He heard the soft purr rumble out again, but he forced himself not to react to it or think about what it meant. He poured his magic into Malfoy's arm, who was ready for it this time and didn't flinch. The purring didn't stop, and it was mighty distracting, but Harry was determined not to pay it any heed. 

He felt Malfoy's arm elongating under his fingertips, bending like a wing would, and it startled him into letting go. The effects drew back and Malfoy shook his forearm, staring at it blankly for a moment.

"Why'd you stop?" He asked Harry, and for some reason, Harry felt he was asking about more than just their assignment. Harry coughed into his fist:

"Er..I thought I was disfiguring you, it scared me. Sorry." 

"You were disfiguring me Potter. The point is to disfigure my arm into a wing." Malfoy sourly commented. 

"No, I know, I meant like..I don't know..." Harry tried to explain, shaking his mop of unruly hair, giving up when he couldn't find the right words.

"Eloquent as always." Draco dryly commented, still reeling from feeling Potter's thumb tracing patterns into his skin. 

~

They wrapped it up after a few more minutes, deciding not to try again for the night, which left an odd feeling of disappointment in Draco. One he did not appreciate. He was thankful Potter hadn't heard him fucking _purring_, or if he did, Draco was grateful he didn't comment on it. Because really, who fucking _purrs_ when their rival is holding their arm? The small circles Potter was drawing into his skin were just..they felt _fucking good_, and that wasn't acceptable. Shockwaves of soft pleasure fled up and down Draco's spine the entire time, and his chest was rumbling with the fucking purrs. He left the RoR more distraught than he'd been in a while, the itch almost immediately returning upon putting some distance between himself and Potter. It was all just the fucking spell. Everything he was experiencing was the spell. He really ought to find the bastard who cast it on him, and demand he take it off, or _else._ Draco didn't actually know what he was going to threaten with yet, but it would be something painful. Very painful.

~

"He was purring?" Hermione bit her lip as Harry paced in front of her, panicked to the roots of his hair. 

"Yes Mione! He was fucking purring! I didn't say anything, of course, because really, that's embarrassing, but Merlin it was distracting me. I couldn't focus on the assignment." Harry complained, rushing to her the second he got into the common room. 

"Harry..you _do_ realize what this possibly means?" His friend's tentative voice suggested something Harry would _not_ accept.

"No Hermione. It's just the spell making him this way. It's fine. It's nothing. It means _nothing._" His voice was quiet, as if he were more convincing himself that rather than her. 

"_Harry_. Calm down. Even if it turns out you two are soulmates, what's so bad of it?" She asked, tugging him down onto the couch next to her. He stared at her with bewildered eyes, his look speaking volumes of 'you're supposed to be the smart one!' "No, really Harry, listen to me. I thought about it. Besides your arbitrary, made up little rivalry, there's nothing inherently wrong with either of you that would make it so bad. I'm pretty sure Malfoy has a personality past all the crudeness." 

"Mione--"

"Just like you have more to you than just being the Boy-Who-Lived. Have you stopped to consider Malfoy has more to him too? I mean for Gods sake Harry, surely you didn't think he was just this 2-dimensional cartoon bully, did you?" 

Harry couldn't argue. 

Hermione only laughed, rich and vibrant.

"So far, it seems highly likely that it might be you. And if it is, well, the world won't end."

Harry couldn't argue with that either.

~

"No way! You literally purred? Oh my God, I love this spell!" Pansy chortled, and Draco glowered at her. He really ought to stop sharing everything with her.

"Shut it Parkinson. It means nothing. It's just the stupid spell acting up." He chided.

"Sure. Blame the spell for everything." She rolled her eyes, and Draco flared up:

"What are you suggesting?!"

"That you don't hate him as fervently as you claim to." Pansy threw her black hair back, giving him her best unamused look.

"Of course I do! If you were hit with a love spell--" He tried to make a point.

"Feles isn't a love spell, Draco. All it did was give you ears and a few cat like abilities. The 'prey drive' is spell-induced, yes, however the person it pulls you towards has nothing to do with it. It's all you." Pansy cut him off curtly, effectively shutting him up.

~

Tomorrow they were back to avoiding each other. Harry didn't really know what to say, or whether saying anything was smart, and Draco just plain didn't want to risk any more embarrassment on his part. His eyes strayed to Potter every once in a while, by which he means all the _fucking_ time. Just staring at the asshole. His skin still fucking itched. He'd rubbed at it, in a vain effort to make it go away, but in the end, he'd resigned himself to his skin's throb and the fucking headache. Whoever the fuck cast the spell on him, would bloody pay. 

"Draco?" Pansy's voice snapped him out of his thundering plotting of murder.

"What?" He snapped.

"You've been staring at him for the entirety of lunch." She notified, politely, voice appropriately quiet whenever they'd discuss Potter.

"So what? I always stare at him." Draco retorted, rolling his eyes as he waved her off. Certainly wouldn't be the first time he'd glared daggers at Potter, and he wagered it wouldn't be the last either. 

"Exactly. You've been staring at him for years now. Are you sure-"

"Of course I'm sure. The nonsense you blabbered last night has nothing to do with reality." He knew what she would ask, and he had to cut her off, because if he'd let her finish the question, he didn't trust himself to lie convincingly.

"Draco, it's okay." She assured, a rare softness overtaking her eyes. Draco didn't look at her, he stared down at his food. 

"What's okay? There's nothing _to_ be okay." He gritted, stubborn as ever. What Pansy said last night wasn't true. It _wasn't._

"Draco, look at me." She begged, but he didn't oblige. He couldn't lie well to Pansy, let alone when looking her in the eyes. The bint could always tell. They'd been friends for far too long.

"Look at me." She begged again, and Draco did this time. Her voice had cracked, something that never happens to Pansy. Whatever she wanted to tell him, it meant a lot to her, and Draco couldn't deny her the most basic of respect while she said it.

"You've been staring at him for years." She repeated gently. 

Draco wasn't sure what he'd expected. Some kind of bombshell? Something terribly cheesy and sentimental? Something crude and snappy? Perhaps. The words that slipped past her lips however, were nothing akin to what Draco had ever heard before. He felt the cat ears flatten against his head upon receiving Pansy's words. It was such a simple statement, so simply worded, somehow still managing to be heavy and meaningful. His mouth had dried, and he couldn't reply even if he'd wanted to. He just searched her eyes, which held no pretenses. Sometimes, he and Pansy would have a true moment, as true friends, and those moments were rare, but meant a lot to both. And this moment was one of them. No pretenses, no lies or snide jokes. Draco was ashamed to be the one to look away first, back down at his food, but his friend didn't mind. In fact, she just smiled, and didn't say a single word for the rest of lunch.

~

"Harry, are you alright?" Hermione whispered, nudging at the plate full of food he'd barely touched. Her fingers thrummed along his shoulder and Harry looked up at her, lifting his head from staring at his lap and muttering something under his breath. 

"Yeah, yeah, 'm fine." He gave her such a pitiful smile.

"You're worried about Malfoy, aren't you?" She caught right on, leaning into him further to ensure no one heard their conversation. Harry swallowed:

"Yeah. What if it's really me? I know you said it wouldn't be a big deal, and I agree, but it wouldn't be a big deal _for me_. For him though? How would the public take to that? His father? His friends? What would they write in the papers? The Daily Prophet would have a field day, and smear his name as much as possible and also--"

"Harry." She cut him off gently, dropping her chin on his shoulder, her hair falling around them. "Slow down. It might not even be you." She soothed, but Harry just shook his head:

"The signs are there. I read more about the spell and how the victim acts towards their soulmate, how their soulmate is the only one able to touch them etc, since you told me about it and...and it all fits.." His voice was strained. Hermione knew he didn't want to admit he cared about Malfoy. She knew that although he knew there was nothing wrong with caring about someone else, he also knew that his peers would find much wrong with _Harry Potter_ caring about _Draco Malfoy, _which in turn made him reluctant to say it out loud. But Hermione understood, she didn't mind, wouldn't judge based on skin-deep displays.

"How much do you know about soulmates, Harry?" She asked, nuzzling into the crook of his neck.

"I know it's the person who compliments you best, who can work with your flaws and help you improve. It's the person you love above all else, the person you could give your life for, the person that wouldn't blink to do the same for you. I know it's someone that you can never grow tired of, always found comfort in. I know it's based on a strong magical connection between two magical folk. I know that fighting with them can feel so much more intense than a regular fight, because just their presence afflicts your emotions. Heightens them. I know that you can seek someone else, but it'll never feel the same. I know that their touch can feel so jarring the first time, that you would instantly know. I know that it connects two people not by actual feelings, but purely on their magical signatures. I know I've never believed in it, it sounds too perfect and cheery. There has to be a bad side to it, but all the books I've read fail to mention anything."

Hermione smiled into his neck:

"That's because you haven't been reading the right books. There are many flaws to soulmates. When one is hurt, the other can feel it waft off of them, in turn end up hurting to, or losing control in a fit of temper, doing something they'd later regret. When one is angry, they can become so blinded that they hurt the other, not realizing what they've done until it's too late. Like you said, their presence alone heightens one's emotions. That extends to anger, to blind fury that can tear someone apart. When one dies, the other can never recover, having that bond severed, it can kill them even. When one does something their soulmate can't forgive them for, it snaps the bond between them, which in turn, leaves both empty and hollow. Floating through a haze of melancholy until the day they die. Once it's snapped, the bond can never be repaired, so even if both are willing to come back to each other, it would be too late. Their magic wouldn't allow them for fear of getting hurt again. For all the wonderful joys finding your soulmate brings, it can bring nothing but pain and misery, even death. And, of course, there's always the matter of never finding them at all, forever wondering why you never feel quite fulfilled." 

Harry listened carefully to the softly muttered words. When she'd finished, Harry couldn't help but ask:

"Why are you telling me this?" 

He felt her smile into his skin.

"Because Harry, if you _are_ Malfoy's soulmate, which seems very likely at this point, hiding from it, denying it or outright rejecting it can bring you more pain than Rita Skeeter's lying mouth ever could. It could wreck the both of you so much that you'll be left in shambles for the rest of your lives. Scar you deeply, make even breathing a living hell. Because no matter what the public or his father or his friends say, it won't matter in the face of how powerful a soulmate bond is. Because no matter what excuse you make now, how relevant or not it is to the current situation, there will _never_ be someone quite as perfect for you. Because even if you _never_ fall in love with him, you'd _forever_ have a special friend who would be there for you through trouble. Why do you think spells like Feles were made? For this exact purpose Harry. To make people who would never spare each other a second glance come together. To make people who could only sneer at each other, much like you and Malfoy, realize there's more. These spells exist to help people see past a skin deep show, and find something more fulfilling."

Harry's throat closed:

"Doesn't being soulmates mean you have to be in love?" He muttered lamely, unable to pick apart her words quite yet.

"No, Harry, it doesn't. Aromantic people have soulmates too, asexual people too. A soulmate's purpose is to be the person you can always turn to, who will always try to give you advice, to help, to comfort. It doesn't necessarily have to be a lover. A bond between soulmates is such that doesn't require love to bloom. You can remain friends for the rest of your lives, but be the closest, most in-tune friends ever. All it really needs is trust."

"Malfoy doesn't trust me." Harry croaked. He was trembling, and he didn't know why.

"Have you ever given him reason to?" Her hand came to rest atop his on the table, and Harry enjoyed the affection. 

"No, I haven't." He admitted. "He hasn't given me a reason either..." He pointed out.

"No, he hasn't. He's had no reason to try. You clearly told him you didn't want to be his friend when he'd offered. Such a rejection stays. Besides, I doubt he's even aware of the concept of soulmates beyond the spell forcing him to you. I doubt that even if he knows, he'll just sit and accept it. This is Malfoy. Proud, haughty, unyielding Malfoy. He'll deny it, he'll fight it and he won't come to you, his pride just won't allow for it." She twisted her head so she was now resting her cheek against Harry's shoulder, observing Malfoy in much the same way Harry always does.

"What if I don't want it?" Harry asked, voice still controlled, careful. Hermione chuckled:

"You don't have to pursue it. You don't have to do anything about it, in fact. Besides, I'm willing to bet that that's exactly what Malfoy is planning on doing. Nothing. He won't face it, even if he knows. I don't think he's even willing to try to do anything, because he's under the impression it'll all be for naught. Because it's you, and you hate him, and that's how it's always been. Why bother? Either way, unfortunately, making a move, should you choose to do so, lies solely with you. The option not to do anything is also open. Knowing he's your soulmate won't change much in way of your life, except you'll always be acutely aware of his presence and you'll always feel a tug towards him. You can ignore the tug, you can ignore it all."

"But you said--" Harry started, but she cut in gently:

"Ignoring it isn't the same as rejecting it or denying it. Ignoring means acknowledging it's there, accepting that it exists and merely choosing not to act on it. Denying it or rejecting it is opposing its very existence, which the nature of it won't allow, it'll rebel and scorch you. Once you know who your soulmate is, you have two approaches you can take: passive or active. Either pursue it or not. You choose what you want to do. It still leaves you with that choice. There are consequences to both, of course, but it's like that with absolutely everything else in life too."

"Consequences?" He prodded, feeling quite dumb, unable to quite wrap his head around it.

"Taking the passive approach bears the consequence of being aware you just won't find anything like it in your life. One could argue you can't miss it if you've never tried it, which is a fair point to make, however it's just the knowledge of the fact that even if you haven't seen what it's like, you'll never have anything similar, it's the question of _what if _that really gets you. Taking the active approach bears the consequences of vulnerability. They can hurt you, you can hurt them, you can be driven to a point of no return and drown in regret afterwards." She explained patiently. 

"How come..how come this has never come up before between me and him?" Harry asked again, unwilling to let go of his skepticism. 

"It has Harry, but neither of you were aware. Now that he's under Feles, the spell has him act in a revealing way for the both of you. But, it's always been there. I'd had my suspicions many times, however I never spoke of it, I knew you wouldn't believe me until there's proof enough for it." 

"It's always been there? No, you're wrong--" Harry was about to defend his case, but her rumbling laugh against him cut him short.

"_Harry_. Your eyes always searched out for him when in a room. We've been here for years now, and there hasn't been a day you weren't gazing at him, or in his direction, or just openly staring. There hasn't been a day you didn't go to him to pick a fight, or him coming to you. There hasn't been a day you haven't at least mentioned him in conversation. There hasn't been a day you hadn't wondered what he was doing, where he was, what he wanted. When the question of the heir of Slytherin came about, without blinking you pointed to him, without really a shred of evidence. You drank Polyjuice just to go to him, question him, make him tell you all of his secrets. There hasn't been a single day you didn't scowl when you saw him happy with his friends, there hasn't been a day you haven't snickered at the mere mention of him. There hasn't been a day you didn't become fully alert and aware of yourself and others as soon as he walked into the room." 

Harry said nothing. He couldn't speak, his mouth was dry.

"And now Feles has him seeking out his soulmate, has him actively hunting them, forcing the truth out, aggressively shoving it into his face. Like I said, spells like Feles were created for the purposes of situations like yours. Enemies, rivals, people who would never entertain these thoughts themselves. Who would attribute everything to nothing but hatred and animosity. It exists to force the realization, but it leaves you with a choice. There's are two ways to get rid of these spells, a counterspell or the discovery and acceptance of the bond. There's always options."

Harry nodded, looking at Malfoy, his sullen face, the grey ears tucked flat against his blonde hair, his prim posture. Hermione was right about everything she'd said, of course.

"Everything in life comes down to a choice, Harry. This is no different. I think it's good that I told you everything you need to know to make an educated decision. I won't say a word more about this, because now you're equipped with all the knowledge you need, and you have to draw the straw for yourself. I just hope you pick something you won't regret." She gave him a smile, and moved away, reaching for her pumpkin juice, leaving Harry quite crestfallen by everything she'd explained.

~

"Potter, we need to meet again for McGonagall's project." Draco snipped in class after another two days had passed, and all Harry did was nod.

"Same place same time?" Draco asked, and Harry just nodded again. Silent as a grave as he turned around in his seat in front of Draco. What? What was wrong with him? Not a single comment out of his mouth all day. Not a single horrible pun. Nothing. He barely even glanced in Draco's direction anymore. He just sat in his seat, drawn into himself, deep in thought. Quite frankly, it made Draco angry, that Potter wasn't paying attention to him. At the same time, he wanted to know what was wrong, and therein lay his issue. He'd been torn between the vitrial, the anger and hatred towards Potter, which were so obviously what he should be feeling and the other things the spell was inducing in him. He was still blaming the spell for everything, but he knew. He knew, which is what made him even angrier at Potter. He had probably read a book too much on the concept of soulmates, and spells like Feles, he knew enough to know what was going on, and if that wasn't enough to leave him fucking terrified, nothing would ever be. Potter's sudden withdrawal from stupid, childish pranks and teasing was worrysome, if Draco was being honest with himself, which he wasn't, so he went with suspicious. 

The sudden transition from their usual bickering to complete silence, however was absolutely horrifying, and that was something Draco couldn't justify with a different emotion if he'd tried. And the stupid spell, making him painfully aware of Potter, leaving him with this need to just go after him, to mark him, claim him, _stay_, wasn't helping either. Potter is the only one who can touch him and not burn, which also made for quite an interesting spin on the concept of _soulmates_ Draco wished he didn't know as much about. Ignorance is bliss, after all. Everything was right there in front of his nose, but he couldn't bear to face it. He could ignore it, he could pretend like it was all fine, he _could_, he _should_, but he doesn't _want_ to. Draco might be scared, terrified even, but fuck he doesn't want to pretend anymore. So long, pretending to be all these things, believe in all these things, he was properly sick of it all. He felt the, now startlingly familiar, cat ears tug on his scalp, rising upright as he listened to the sounds in front of him. Little, quiet hiccups, things a normal human ear couldn't hear, cat ears on the other hand though... Such soft, yet incredibly sad sounds bubbling from Potter. Draco bit into his lip, unconsciously reaching for Potter, before snapping out of it, and freezing mid-air. What was he _doing_? He placed his hand on the back of Potter's chair instead of on Potter's shoulder like he'd planned. The backs of his curled fingers only barely brushed Potter's back, and the boy visibly stiffened, but Draco didn't draw his hand away. It helped with the infuriating itch in his skin, satisfying it for a short little while. He kept his fingers curled around Potter's chair for the rest of class, sighing when they brushed his back. 

After class had ended, Potter left without so much as a glance, and Draco couldn't help the twinge of disappointment. He'd always hated when Potter wasn't paying attention to him, however, it only took a goddamn spell to put this into perspective for him. He sneered at himself, and left the class, heading into the next mindlessly, then followed that up into dinner, then he was standing in front of the RoR, sudden clarity coming back to him. He entered and found the room the same as before, Potter waiting in the same armchair, so fucking subdued that it almost had Draco snarling at him, just to make him mad, just to get a reaction, but he didn't. He bit his tongue in time and instead sat opposite Potter, just like the first time. They mumbled 'hellos' and Draco rolled up his sleeve, outstretching his forearm for Potter to grasp, nearly whimpering at the relief from the constant fucking itch when Potter's hands touched his skin. Potter did the same thing as before, rubbed small circles into his arm, while focusing on transfiguring it into a wing. As his fingers moved over Draco's skin, an even stronger surge of pleasure wafted through his insides than the first time round, and he felt his chest rumbling. He felt it travel up his throat, roll over his tongue, and finally felt it push against his tightly sealed lips.

He would _not _fucking _purr_ again.

At least, that's what he'd promised himself.

However, that promise was quickly broken when Potter's magic began sinking into his skin. It was very cold, but his finger dancing over Draco's arm was soothing the cold away, leaving nothing but a pleasant warmth deep inside Draco, a purr escaping him. His lips had fallen open of their own accord, and it tumbled out. Potter said nothing, didn't even flinch in the slightest, but Draco was _certain_ he heard it. 

It didn't matter, really. He looked down to see his arm thickening, then stretching out, he saw his hand and fingers meld away as his arm bent under a new joint, bending like a wing does. He didn't feel any pain at all, which honestly surprised him. Maybe Potter's magic was just that good. It wouldn't surprise him. The git was good at _everything_ it seemed. Draco could feel his ears standing proudly, prim and straight up off his head, from the soft, pleasurable strain from Potter's gentle fingers, which still didn't stop moving, even after Draco's arm had nearly doubled in length. Small, white feathers were now prickling out of his skin. Potter had kept one hand busy with upholding Draco's, but he now moved the other over Draco's skin, his fingers thrumming along as he focused harder, leaving a wake of pure white feathers to grow and elongate in his wake, as well as violent shudders to rack through Draco. He felt, rather than heard, his own purring grow more forceful, and he had no control over it at this point.

After his arm was completely successfully transfigured into a beautiful white wing, Potter keened and dropped his arms, doubling over in exhaustion, a few beads of sweat slipping down his brow.

"Merlin you did it Potter." Draco muttered, staring down at the beautiful wing that came all the down from his shoulder.

"Yeah. I can't believe we managed it on our 2nd try!" For the first time in almost two days, Potter spoke to him in full sentence, smiling, and Draco had to catch his breath for a second.

"I mean, it's not like you're Harry fucking Potter, and I'm Draco fucking Malfoy or anything. This is to be expected." Draco snorted, moving his shoulder, surprised by the weight of his new limb, lifting his wing and looking at it from all sides.

"Out of curiosity, what bird are you transfiguring me into?" Draco asked. There were many white birds out there.

"A swan." Harry said, almost sheepish. 

"A swan? Why?" Draco prodded again, not really even looking at him, more so testing how he could outstretch his wing and lift it and other such movements. 

"For me to know and you to never find out." Harry mumbled. Draco's arm started to untransfigure, the minute up. Soon enough, it was back to normal.

"Why not just tell me Potter?" He asked, shaking it out and pulling his sleeve back down.

"Because I don't want you to know." Harry admitted, wringing his fingers in his lap. "On another note Malfoy...You purred." He stated. He didn't quite want Malfoy to know he picked a swan because they were graceful and beautiful, just like the blonde himself was, but they needed to talk about their soulmate issue.

Draco froze, and flushed immediately. Why the fuck did he have to bring it up? He couldn't bring himself to return with a biting reply, only nodding meekly.

"We both know why." Harry stated again. "Why I'm the only one who can touch you." He elaborated and Draco drew in a breath through his teeth. He dared a look at Potter, whose face was completely blank and devoid of emotions. His eyes however...burned so fucking _brightly._

"It's just the spell Potter. Something's wrong with it.." Draco finally forced words out, nearly choking on them, the lies.

"You know it isn't. I know it isn't. No need to play stupid." Harry sighed, his eyes not once leaving Draco's. The blonde suppressed a shiver. 

"Right. Then what do you suggest?" Draco asked, voice abysmally quiet. He wasn't quite ready to face it _yet_, but here Potter was, discussing it so calmly, casually.

"We have only two options really. Do nothing or do something." He shrugged, leaning back into the armchair.

"Doing something meaning?" Draco didn't dare try to guess what the bastard would say.

"Meaning, I'll invite you to Hogsmeade next weekend, and you'll agree, and we'll go from there." He stated plainly, as if it were just a casual 'hello'. As if he didn't just send Draco's entire world out of balance. Sent it for a wild spin. 

"Why Potter? Why would you want to do this?" Draco managed to ask, despite his head still swaying.

"You're my soulmate. Why wouldn't I?" He asked again, still perfectly composed. Draco wanted to slap him, to reduce him to the shivery mess Draco currently was.

"Because I'm me. Draco Malfoy." The blonde stated, as if it's obvious.

"Yeah. And? What's so bad about you?" Harry shot back. He'd accepted last night that no matter what their past had been like, he wanted to try. He obviously had this bond with Malfoy, whether he was quite aware of it before now or not, and so, he decided to take a risk on it. He wanted to give his soulmate a shot, no matter that it ended up being Draco. 

"I'm the guy who has been mercilessly bullying you for years perhaps?" Draco was starting to press the panic button, and Harry could see that clear as day. So, he'd resorted to snapping and snarling. Harry remained calm, even though he felt so very anxious himself.

"I wasn't a peach either." He replied, and he observed the tick in Malfoy's jaw.

"That's not the point Potter! You could ignore the bond, just like I could. Find someone else, be happy elsewhere. I can do the very same! It's what we _should_ be doing." He finally snapped.

"And why's that?" Harry asked again, prodding at Malfoy, wanting to get all of the information.

"Because I'm me and you're you and we hate each other and a stupid superficial bond can't change that--"

"You're right. The _bond _itself can't change anything. _We_ can change it. Like I said Malfoy, we have two options. Do nothing or do something."

"How are you so bloody calm about this?!" Draco snapped, losing his cool by now. Potter was making _sense_ for once and that was unacceptable. 

"I wasn't at first. When it hit me that neither of us were burning, I freaked out on Hermione. She explained the concept of soulmates to me, and ultimately, it comes down to a choice. I've made mine, now all you have to do is make yours." Harry knew that he wanted to give it a chance, this soulmate bond. No matter that it's with Malfoy.

"It's not that _simple_ Potter, you daft _brute_!" The blonde snarled.

"Funny enough, that's what I told Hermione. And she put me straight. The point of a soulmate is to be someone who's always there for you. You don't ever have to love me, nor I you. We can just remain friends and it would still work all the same."

"Why do you want to do this? With me?" Draco snapped again, genuinely curious and concerned how he was about to agree.

"It doesn't matter to me that it's you specifically. I want to give my soulmate a chance. I don't care that it's you. It doesn't make a difference."

"Yes it does Potter--" Draco started.

"What difference does it make then?" Harry cut off, and waited. 

Just as Draco opened his mouth to list them, he closed it just as quickly. What difference _did_ it make? It would be easy to say that it's because Potter and Malfoy don't mix, but then again, why not? Because Harry refused to be his friend when they were 11? Because they were openly hostile for so long? And what did that have to do with the fact they were soulmates, bonded by it and now presented with choosing what they were going to do about it? Not much, really. People would certainly talk if they suddenly became friends, but people talk either way for any minute reason they find.

"Thought so Malfoy." Harry smiled, and leaned forward. "So, what do you say?" He asked finally, lapsing into silence again as he waited. Draco breathed in deeply. It didn't matter he had this bond with Potter. If they became friends, all he'd gain is another reliable friend. Merlin knows he needed those. Pansy was wonderful, but she couldn't understand everything. Perhaps Potter wouldn't either, but Draco would never know if he didn't at the very least try. 

"Hogsmeade it is then Potter." He answered, nodding.

Harry smiled: 

"Wonderful." 

~

And now, 12 years later, Draco was so fucking glad he agreed that day. The Hogsmeade date ended up being the first of many, as it turned out, Potter was absolutely irresistible, which Draco learned in a quite unfortunate display of possessive jealousy when he'd seen the she-Weasel cling to his arm. Harry wasn't very keen on this, and Draco knew, because he knew everything about Harry's face by then. It happened exactly 6 months after Potter had decided to give the 'soulmate thing' a chance, as he'd called it. They went into it hoping to just become friends, which failed miserably when Draco had a startling moment of crushing realization that he _was_, in fact, madly in love with Harry Potter. And seeing him with that Weasley bint hanging off his arm was just...too much. He'd marched up to her and pulled her off of him quite roughly, firmly planting himself in her spot, glaring until she ran away. He remembered that Harry didn't say much of anything, only brought his arms up to massage away the tension in Draco's shoulders. He chuckled softly and muttered:

"Jelaous much?" 

Draco vehemently denied, flushing red as a beetroot, which only earned him another one of Harry's utterly adorable soft chuckles.

"You practically dragged her off of me." He noted. Draco huffed like a child:

"Last I remember Potter, you're _my _soulmate, not hers." And Draco admits, he put a bit too much force into the 'my', but he couldn't really help himself in the moment.

"Yes, _yours_." Harry only confirmed, and Draco could feel the smile in his words, though he did not turn around to look at him. 

After that, it became so much harder to hide how he felt, because Potter was actually flirting on occasion, and Draco wasn't sure if he was joking or being serious, which was actually slowly _killing_ him. 

He didn't have to wait long to find out though, as one month later, Harry had him pressed into a wall when he pushed him out of the way of a ill timed hex aimed for someone else. It took all of 1 second for Harry to lose control and kiss Draco harder than he'd ever kissed anyone before. And it took exaclty .3 seconds for Draco to eagerly respond, whimpering into Harry's mouth. 

And then the cat was out of the bag.

To this day, Pansy still muttered on about how it was thanks to her that Draco and Harry found each other, had she not cast the spell on him none of this would have happened, and much as he hated to admit it, Draco knew she was right. He kind of missed his cat ears when she'd dispelled Feles. He did not miss the constant itch that begged for Harry to be touching him at all times. He remembered the one time Harry had pet Draco's ears, scratching behind them, and Draco had to make a quick break for it because _fuck_ it felt _so fucking_ good, and he had a problem in his pants. 

They hadn't had the best start with this, or the smoothest ride, what with the press, and the war, and his father disowning him. He'd lost his name, but really it didn't matter much because he gained a new one almost immediately after. And though he would never admit it out loud, he much liked the ring of Draco Potter. And even through those rough patches, it was alright because they talked, and comforted each other, and they were there, just like good soulmates should be. Draco knew exactly how tightly he needed to hold Harry after a nightmare, and Harry knew exactly how to stroke his hair until he'd calmed after someone hurled 'Death Eater' at him on the street. 

Now, 12 years later, all turned out better than Draco could have ever imagined it would. He genuinely thought it wouldn't work for the first 2 months, but if there's something to be said about Harry Potter, it's that he's an unyielding determined bastard who refused to give up and slip into just ignoring their bond, like Draco had muttered about doing many times. And thank _fuck_ for his husband determination, because Draco would have been kicking himself for the rest of his existence had he let Potter slip away. He snorted to himself one morning, while he watched his husband's peaceful, serene, sleeping face with a smile.

All of this happening simply because Pansy Parkinson lost a bet, and had to turn Draco partly feline. How funny it was that they both needed a bloody spell to open their eyes to what was in front of them all along. No matter now, Draco snuggled into Harry's chest, the other throwing an arm around him instantly. And Draco purred.

Oh yeah, the purring never went away. Maybe Draco did resemble a cat more than he'd let anyone know. And maybe, just maybe, he was _purrfectly_ content being Harry Potter's cat.

~

_Fin._


End file.
